The Moonlight's Ruin
by Cantil
Summary: What would happen if Lord Voldemort and Pitch Black met? Perhaps love? Will the Guardians ruin everything for Pitch once again?
1. Chapter 1

**Cantil: This random idea came to me one day. What if Pitch and Voldemort were paired up together romantically? Well, this is the result of that. I hope you enjoy, and please tell me what you think of it. **

**Summary: What would happen if Lord Voldemort and Pitch Black met? Perhaps love? Will the Guardians ruin everything for Pitch once again? **

**Pairing: Voldemort/Pitch Black**

**Warnings: Male/Male relationship, maybe language, OOC characters, spelling/grammar. **

**The Moonlight's Ruin**

**Chapter 1**

_England, September 1997_

A tall, lithe, man with golden-yellow eyes, dull gray skin, a long dark robe, and glossy black hair slicked back, making it stick out like spikes from the back of his head, walked aimlessly through a heavily wooded area, with a permanent frown marring his face. The trees surrounding him made it hard to remember where he had and hadn't already been, not to mention it was foggy out.

This man had many names that people called him however, he went by the name Pitch Black.

He was lost, yet he couldn't really bring himself to care at present. He was in what was known as the Forbidden Forest, if the old rickety sign he had seen before was anything to go by. Pitch had come to England after his defeat by the Guardians. It was the only place his nightmares would not go for some strange reason, but that suited Pitch just fine.

Pitch hadn't lost all his powers, after all there would always be fear, even if it wasn't much. He could still control some of his nightmares, and his black sand that he wielded still worked, but it wasn't as strong as it once was, making Pitch feel weak and helpless.

Pitch plopped down heavily onto a moss-covered boulder in a small clearing, thinking about all he could be doing now, had he won. He would be ruling over the world with fear. **He** would be believed in. Pitch sighed wistfully. _If only. _He thought sullenly.

A twig snapped, making Pitch climb to his feet, warily looking for the source of the noise. He heard the distant sound of a voice and running water nearby, which he hadn't noticed until now. He listened carefully as he quickly ducked behind a thick tree.

He peered around the trunk, his golden eyes glowing slightly, as he watched a person dressed in black robes step into the small clearing. The robes covered everything on the man from head to toe. Pitch's eyes widened. The man had an aura of power and darkness surrounding him, making Pitch's breath hitch.

"I know you're there, so you might as well come out." The man stated, looking directly at Pitch's place.

Pitch gasped in surprise. _How could he have possibly known? _Pitch asked himself in shock. The mans voice held so much power that Pitch had a hard time looking at him. This man, whoever he was, demanded respect, and Pitch didn't have much of a choice considering he was too weak to fight him. Not that he would.

Pitch carefully came out from his hiding place, looking at the ground in respect.

"Who are you and what are you doing here? Are you here to spy on me? Perhaps, one of Dumbledore's minions?" The man asked dangerously, a stick pointed at Pitch's chest, his robe no longer covering his face. Pitch raised his hands in surrender, finally looking up.

The man glaring at Pitch was beautiful. He was tall, extremely thin, his face was almost opaque, with deep scarlet eyes shaped like slits, small incisions for nostrils, and unnaturally long spindly fingers. Sure some might find this look repulsive, but Pitch wasn't like normal people. He found beauty in dark things.

"My name is Pitch Black. I came here to get away from...things, but it seems I got lost." Pitch scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. Seeing the mans glare Pitch continued. "I didn't come here to spy nor have I ever heard the name Dumbledore in my lifetime." Pitch explained. Offering his best smile, which came out awkward since he never smiled much anymore.

The man nodded carefully, slowly lowering the stick in his hand. Pitch glanced at the stick warily. He didn't know what it did, but if he had to guess it would probably have magical properties to it, like Jack Frost's staff.

The man began to walk away with a sneer. "Wait!" Pitch ran to catch up to him. "What's your name?" He asked breathlessly, with curiosity. The man looked over his shoulder slightly, contemplating.

"Lord Voldemort." Was the only reply he got before a black mist much like his sand, covered the man and he was gone. Pitch looked at the spot the man had been in awe. He had no idea why the man had been in the woods, nor did he know why they met, but one thing was for certain, he was glad they did.

"Lord Voldemort." Pitch breathed, testing the name on his lips. He shivered at the feeling it gave him. Shaking his head, Pitch began walking, trying to find his way out of the forest.

It would be weeks later that the two of them would finally meet again.

**- To be continued -**


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary:** **What would happen if Lord Voldemort and Pitch Black met? Perhaps love? Will the Guardians ruin everything for Pitch once again? **

**C****antil: Hello people! Welcome to chapter two. Hope you enjoy.**

**The Moonlight's Ruin**

**Chapter 2**

Pitch sighed tiredly as he plopped himself down on a bench near the forbidden forest, where he had just come from. It'd been a few weeks since meeting Voldemort, and Pitch couldn't get him out of his mind. He watched silently as people walked past him, not able to see him. To be honest, Pitch was still surprised that Voldemort was able to see him. It just didn't make any sense.

Pitch really wanted to find Voldemort again. See him at least one last time, and hopefully he would finally get out of Pitch's mind for good, but Pitch didn't know where to start looking. It wasn't like he came to England very often, or ever for that matter. This place was huge, and would take years to find Voldemort.

Luckily for Pitch, that moment happened not five minutes later. Two people dressed in black robes with their hoods up, were walking past Pitch, when he heard them talking about being late for a meeting with their Lord. Pitch grew curious, got up and silently followed them warily, sticking to the shadows in case they were able to see him.

They came up to what looked like a dead-end in a nearby alleyway, but the two strangers didn't stop like Pitch expected them too. In fact, they **disappeared **through the wall in a puff of black smoke.

Pitch's eyes widened in surprise, before clouding in thought. He recognized the smoke as the same one Voldemort was consumed in before vanishing the night they met. Pitch smiled brightly. Finally at least he had a lead, something to go on. He slowly made his way to the dead-end, and stuck a hand out.

He immediately recalled his hand with a hiss, and looked down with a frown. His hand was bright red with a deep burn. _Great. _He thought in annoyance. _That'll take forever to heal. _He mentally sighed, as his gaze went back to the moss-covered brick wall.

He walked up to the wall, careful not to touch it while he observed. _How the hell am I supposed to get through? _He asked himself thoughtfully, his burn now completely forgotten as he considered his options carefully. Suddenly, almost like a light bulb went off in his head, he came up with an idea.

What if he used the shadows to get through? The more Pitch thought on it, the more he started to doubt it would work. _Oh, just do it, already. _Pitch disappeared into the shadows, before he could change his mind. He pushed against the brick wall forcefully.

It didn't work, but at least it didn't burn him. With an angry growl, Pitch backed up, took a deep breath, and ran forward with his hands in front of him protectively. When nothing happened, Pitch opened his eyes in wonder, and looked at the brick wall, which was now behind him.

He gave a triumphant smile towards the wall, then looked around him curiously. He was in a dark dense forest that was eerily silent. He sighed. _Another forest. Really? _Pitch asked incredulously. _Well better get a move on then. _He started walking aimlessly, unsure where the forest led. He hoped it led to Voldemort, but he wasn't going to get his hopes up.

After nearly an hour of walking, Pitch was starting to lose hope, when he finally came upon a big clearing with a beautiful dark-colored, fairly old-looking, Victorian styled mansion, covered in moss. The moss, didn't make the mansion look any less beautiful to Pitch though.

The mansion seemed to ooze darkness and power, making Pitch's breath hitch, and his toes curl at the feeling. He walked up to the heavy metal gate, cautiously looking around in fear that someone would see him, but there was no one around.

The gate was adorned in metal snakes curled up along the middle, acting as the handle. Pitch admired its beauty, caressing the snakes as he opened it. He swore, that out of the corner of his eyes, he saw one of the snakes move, but quickly dismissed the thought. Walking the stone path to the door, Pitch grew nervous.

He watched his feet, making sure there were no traps or alarms he would set off to alert whoever owned this place. He bit his lip in concentration, only looking up when he was safely on the porch. The mahogany door had a big knocker in the middle, with another snake on it. As he gazed at the door, he noticed the door was slightly ajar.

Pitch smirked. _One of those idiots must have left it opened in their rush to get here_. He thought, almost laughing at their sheer stupidity, as he slowly and quietly walked through the open door. He used the shadows to his advantage, for if this was Voldemort's home. It would be better if he could first observe him without being seen, then show himself when the time was right.

Pitch toured the mansion as he went through each room. There wasn't much to see, he noticed. Everything, for the most part, was covered in thin white sheets, with dust gathering over it. From this, Pitch gathered that only certain rooms in use.

Rooms like the kitchen, dinning room, sitting room, bathrooms and one bedroom, showed signs of life.

The kitchen was big and yellow colored, with a full set of working appliances that looked fairly new and unused. The dinning room was big enough to hold a party in, with a long ebony colored table in the center that looked like it could hold at least 25 people. The sitting room, had a warm and inviting vibe to it, with a big fireplace, a black leather couch, and one chair facing the fireplace. The bathrooms, were fairly large, with a shower and bathtub on one wall, and a toilet not far off. One bathroom was located near the entry hall, and the other was by the bedroom that was in use.

The bedroom, though, Pitch found the most beautiful. It was green. Almost everything was a dark forest green with snakes carved into the wooden furniture, and black walls. Unlike the sitting room, this room had a dark and uninviting vibe. Pitch spent most of his tour here, before leaving to find the one who owned it.

He walked up and down the halls twice, before he finally heard voices. He quickly ran to the sound. When he reached the end of the hall, he turned to the open door, and saw many people dressed in black robes like the two from earlier. They were all in what looked like the throne room and were kneeling down respectfully in front of the throne. Pitch silently weaved through the crowed that had stood back up, using the shadows to hide himself.

It was who he saw in the middle that made him gasp in shock. It was _Him. Voldemort. _He was here. Silently watching his followers with a condescending smile on his face. What Pitch failed to notice until the last-minute, is that Voldemort was no longer looking at his followers. He was looking right at Pitch, with a frown obscuring his beautiful face.

Pitch swallowed nervously. _There's no way he can see me while I'm in the shadows, right? _Pitch asked.

**- To be continued -**


	3. Chapter 3

**Cantil: Hey guys, I just wanted to say thanks to everyone who reviewed. It put a smile on my face and I never expected anyone to like this story enough to review, but thank you all. Enjoy the next chapter!**

**Summary: What would happen if Lord Voldemort and Pitch Black met? Perhaps love? Will the Guardians ruin everything for Pitch once again? **

**Last chapter:**

_**What Pitch failed to notice until the last-minute, is that Voldemort was no longer looking at his followers. He was looking right at Pitch, with a frown obscuring his beautiful face. **_

_**Pitch swallowed nervously. **There's no way he can see me while I'm in the shadows, right?** Pitch asked. **_

**The Moonlight's Ruin **

**Chapter 3**

Pitch sighed in relief when Voldemort looked away from him, gave his followers orders, and dismissed them with a glare. He moved to the side, and watched as Voldemort left the room. Pitch shrugged and followed quietly behind him, careful not to get too close.

Voldemort went into the room that Pitch had checked out earlier. Pitch had barely enough time to get through the door before it closed behind him. He watched Voldemort as he took off his heavy black robes and threw it over the chair by the fireplace, leaving him dressed in black slacks and a white dress shirt.

Pitch couldn't pry his gaze away from the sight of him. He was beautiful. majestic even, and Pitch simply couldn't get enough of him. He sighed wistfully however, he didn't notice that he was no longer out of the shadows until Voldemort cleared his throat.

Pitch snapped out of his trance, and looked up, meeting the eyes of the Dark Lord. Red met gold in a battle of dominance. _There's no way he can see me. _But Pitch knew he was in fact being seen, when Voldemort took out a wooden stick and pointed it at Pitch's chest.

Voldemort's eyes flashed in recognition. "You're the guy who was lost in the woods, aren't you?" It wasn't a question, and he said it mockingly. Pitch scratched his head in embarrassment, and nodded.

"How did you get in here?" Voldemort asked suspiciously.

"Um...Through the door?" Pitch couldn't believe it. He sounded like a weak, stuttering, **Teenager.** This made him wince slightly. No one had ever made him act like this. Pitch didn't know what to do or what to say.

"I can see that, but this place isn't accessable to outsiders due to magical wards, so I will ask you again, how did you get in?" Voldemort demanded, but Pitch was too busy looking towards his stick in understanding.

"So that's what that is. Magic," Pitch glanced at Voldemort in awe, "The door was open so I just came in." He explained carefully, almost as an afterthought.

"The door was open." Voldemort sighed tiredly. "I knew my followers were idiots, but I thought they at least knew how to close a door properly." Pitch shrugged, and plopped himself on Voldemort's bed uninvited, Voldemort's wand still trained on him.

"Well, are you going to tell me why you are here or am I going to have to guess?" Voldemort asked. When Pitch didn't answer, Voldemort continued. "If you have no business here then I will kindly have to ask you to leave."

Pitch's heart sank at the thought. He had to stay. He just _had _to. His mind raced as he tried to think of something. He looked up at Voldemort, who patiently waited while Pitch contemplated his options.

"I want to join you." He finally proclaimed confidently. Voldemort lowered his wand in surprise.

"And what can you offer me? What power do you posses that could make me want you as a follower?" Voldemort conjured a black chair, sat in front of Pitch and gazed at him appraisingly.

Pitch flinched at the word 'follower', but otherwise showed no reaction to his words. He realized it would take a while to go up in follower ranks, but Pitch thought it was worth it. As for power? Well, that was a touchy subject for Pitch.

Yes, he possessed his ability to hide in the shadows and his sand seemed to work fine, but ever since his defeat Pitch hasn't been able to control his nightmares and he was afraid that he never would. For without fear Pitch was almost useless when powers were involved. This thought made Pitch glare hatefully at the wall across from him.

He really hated the guardians with a passion. They took everything away from him, and now they were going to take Voldemort away from him too, because no one wanted a weak follower who was a nuisance.

Pitch sighed, but decided to tell Voldemort of what he _could _do instead of dwelling on his past mistakes. His face grew determined and his eyes hardened in resolve. He looked up at Voldemort, gold eyes meeting red confidently.

"I have various shadow powers," Voldemort looked as if he wanted to interrupt, but Pitch held up a hand to stop him, "This 'gift' allows me to travel great distances through shadows, and I can literally _become _a shadow making me unable to be touched or seen unless I deliberately make myself known. I can also create any weapon out of a black sand substance that I perfected over the years." He explained almost bitterly.

He liked his powers, but sometimes he wished he didn't need fear just to use most of them. He wanted to tell Voldemort of his ability over his nightmares, but didn't know if he should. He decided too at the last-minute. He didn't want any secrets between them.

"I have one other ability that I know of." Pitch admitted quietly, not daring to look Voldemort in the eyes in fear of what he might see there. Would there be disappointment? Contempt? Would he shun him?

_Just one look. Come on, you know you want too. _Pitch sighed. Yes he wanted to, _so_ badly. _Do it! _Pitch took a deep breath, and slowly looked up at Voldemort. And almost gasped at what he saw. Voldemort's face was alight with excitement, and his eyes shone brightly. Pitch didn't expect this reaction.

"What of the other ability?" Voldemort asked, his excitement showing in his voice before he managed to look indifferent and uncaring.

"To understand this power you must first understand how my power works. I can...could create nightmares shaped as black horses with golden eyes. They are manifestations of fear, for fear is what I thrive on. They're corrupted pleasant dreams that are pulled from the minds of sleeping children and adults for me to control." Pitch grew wistful as he explained this. He missed this power.

"What do you mean you _could _create them? Why can't you now?" Voldemort asked curiously in a demanding sort of way.

Pitch sighed. Of course he would ask that. "I was hoping you wouldn't ask that. It's a long story." Pitch tried in vain to get Voldemort uninterested, and ran a hand through his hair.

"I've got time." Voldemort replied tersely. Pitch looked away from the penetrating red gaze in defeat, and began the long explanation on how he lost, and why he ended up in the Forbidden Forest on the day they met. After his explanation Pitch waited in a tense silence for Voldemort's response on the matter.

"Can you get them back," At Pitch's confused look, Voldemort elaborated. "Your powers over the nightmares. Can you get them back?" He asked.

"I don't know." Pitch admitted feebly. "Maybe, but it will take time to gain control over them again. When I came into the Forbidden Forest they stopped following me, and I don't know why. I need fear to control them though."

"I suppose we'll just have to create some then, won't we?" Voldemort smiled mysteriously. Pitch's head snapped up in shock.

"Does that mean I can join you?" Pitch asked, barely daring to hope. Voldemort sighed.

"Yes, Pitch. It means you can join me." Voldemort was surprised when Pitch shot forward and hugged him tightly in thanks.

"Thank you so much. You have no idea how happy you've made me." Pitch said sincerely. Voldemort nodded.

"You can stay in one of the extra rooms I have, and then tomorrow we will talk more about my war and your powers." Voldemort ushered Pitch out of the room and closed the door behind him. Leaving Pitch alone to find a room.

Pitch smiled brightly as he practically skipped down the hall to a spare room with white sheets covering everything. He barely looked at the room he chose as he plopped down head first on the bed, too tired to remove the dusty sheet.

That night, Pitch fell asleep with a smile on his face for the first time in a long time.

**- To be continued -**


	4. Chapter 4

**Cantil: Hello everyone, sorry for not uploading sooner, but I've been busy trying to catch up on community service for school to allow me to graduate. Enough with the excuses though, here's the next chapter!**

**Summary: What would happen if Lord Voldemort and Pitch Black met? Perhaps love? Will the Guardians ruin everything for Pitch once again?**

**Chapter 3 recap: **

"_**You can stay in one of the extra rooms I have, and then tomorrow we will talk more about my war and your powers." Voldemort ushered Pitch out of the room and closed the door behind him. Leaving Pitch alone to find a room. **_

_**Pitch smiled brightly as he practically skipped down the hall to a spare room with white sheets covering everything. He barely looked at the room he chose as he plopped down head first on the bed, too tired to remove the dusty sheet. **_

_**That night, Pitch fell asleep with a smile on his face for the first time in a long time. **_

**The Moonlight's Ruin**

**Chapter 4**

Pitch awoke the next morning feeling refreshed and ready for the day. He yawned as he stretched his arms above his head. Pitch smiled as he looked around the room, remembering the night before. He was happy that Voldemort allowed him to stay, and Pitch knew that he would do whatever it took to help Voldemort win his war.

Pitch straightened his black robes, and called on the shadows to take him to Voldemort. He eventually found him in what looked like a study, filled with many books, and a long table with intricate carvings on it. Voldemort sat at the head of the table in a throne like chair, staring at Pitch with an open book in his lap.

Pitch blushed as he stared at him, gold eyes meeting red. Voldemort was wearing black trousers with a green shirt, complimenting his eyes nicely. His face looked like it had more color to it or as much as someone with his pale features could get.

Voldemort wordlessly offered Pitch a seat to the left of him. Pitch gulped nervously as he stiffly sat. He didn't know why he was suddenly nervous, but it probably had to do with the fact that Voldemort looked hot. A chuckle brought Pitch out of his musings.

He looked up from the table that he hadn't even realized he'd been staring at.

"Good morning, _Pitch_." Voldemort greeted pleasantly. The way Voldemort practically purred his name sent shivers down Pitch's spine, making him blush even harder.

"M-morning." Pitch stuttered uselessly.

"Care for some breakfast?" Voldemort inquired in amusement. Pitch nodded eagerly when he saw Voldemort take out his stick and pointed it at the table. He watched as a banquet fit for a king appeared on the table, then he looked at Voldemort in wonder. Voldemort set the stick down next to his plate in satisfaction.

Pitch dug in immediately, but paused as he remembered something. "Um...can I ask you something?"

Voldemort looked up from his dish in curiosity. "You may." He granted guardedly.

"What is that called?" Pitch asked, gesturing towards Voldemort's wand. Voldemort looked from the wand to Pitch in surprise.

Voldemort picked up the stick and fingered it with his fingers tenderly. Pitch never thought he could ever be jealous of a stick, but here he was stewing in his hatred for a piece of wood and wishing for Voldemort to look at him like that.

"You mean to tell me that you don't know what it is!?" Voldemort shook his head in disbelief as Pitch looked away in embarrassment.

"...Well I know what it does, but I haven't been here very long and spent my time in a forest so..." Pitch trailed off. Voldemort nodded in understanding.

"This is a wand and it's what allows me to use my magic." Voldemort stated proudly.

"Does that mean that without a _wand _you can't use magic?" Pitch curiously gazed at the wand, no longer caring if he asked stupid questions.

"Not exactly. It acts as an object to draw your power towards it and release it to your target, but you don't _need _the wand to do that. If one were to practice a long time, I'd say many years, then one could learn to use magic without the wand. I have practiced for many years and can do some spells without it, but I still have a long way to go." Voldemort explained, his voice taking on a lecturing tone.

Pitch nodded, now fully understanding everything.

"Now, speaking of magic, we need to discuss my war and your part in it." Pitch eagerly waited for Voldemort to continue.

"I suppose I should start from the beginning. I was born in 1928 in an orphanage in London. My mother, a witch, had fallen in love with Tom Riddle, a muggle, meaning without magical powers. My _father_ lived in a manor in a village called Little Hangleton. My mother, Merope Gaunt gave Tom a love potion in order for them to be together, but when my mother stopped giving him the potion and told Tom that she was a witch, he abandoned her. What he didn't know, was that she had been pregnant at the time. Heartbroken, she lost the will to live, only living long enough to give birth to me and name me after my _father. Tom Marvolo Riddle._" Voldemort practically spat the name. He hated his name with a passion and the man behind the name.

Pitch listened to Voldemort attentively, trying to learn all he could about Voldemort and his life.

"It was in this orphanage that I would live until I was sixteen. The first part of my life was pure hell. The other kids hated me because I was different and wherever I went bad things seemed to happen. I could make things happen accidentally or on purpose. At first, my powers scared me, but one day when a group of kids were making fun of me I disappeared, landing on the roof, and from then on I realized that my powers were there to help me, not hinder me. I started to fight back and for a while this worked, but when I turned eleven I was visited by a wizard named Albus Dumbledore. He told me that what I could do was magic and invited me to his school, Hogwarts. I thought I would finally be accepted, but the bullying only got worse. Dumbledore watched me closely. He never trusted me from the beginning, but especially when he saw how intelligent I was and how easily magic came to me. One year, fifth year I believe, I grew tired of the bullying at the orphanage and asked Dumbledore if I could stay for the summer, but he turned me down thinking I was up to no good." Voldemort paused as he tried to gather his thoughts.

"I grew obsessed with my heritage and finding ways to cheat death, because that was what I was most afraid of. Death. It seemed so final, and unrelenting. I knew I had to find a way to get around it, and so I created my first Horcrux, which allowed me to place a part of my soul in an object to become immortal, but one wasn't enough and so I started to create more until I had six. It was about that time that I started to gain followers to rid the world of muggles, but I was naïve then. I thought we could rid the world of them all, bathe the streets in their blood however, there wasn't enough of us to do so and I'm afraid there never will be. They will find us one day and they wont accept our power."

"What happens next then? If you can't get rid of them then how do we hide from them? What will happen to us?" Pitch asked in horror. He couldn't stand the thought of Voldemort and other wizards going extinct.

Voldemort held up a hand to silence Pitch's tirade of questions. Pitch quieted down quickly and settled back down. "Simple. We take control of the ministry and set new rules. We make it so that muggleborns have to vow to secrecy, and their parents as well. Either the muggleborns will stay in the wizarding world or they will be forced to live out their lives in the muggle world." Voldemort explained calmly. Pitch nodded thoughtfully.

"That could work." He mused.

"No. It _will _work. The future of our world depends on it." Voldemort corrected with conviction.

"Right...So what do we do?" Pitch asked eagerly.

"First we should gather our strength and numbers of followers. We will need all the help we can get. That reminds me, you are now a follower, and so, you should be marked as such." Pitch blinked when he looked up to see Voldemort stood in front of him. "Hold out your left arm." He demanded harshly.

Pitch warily held out his arm, and watched in confusion as Voldemort pointed his wand at his lower arm. Pitch gasped at the sudden pain as a green glow covered his arm. Voldemort was muttering in a different language as he tightly held Pitch's arm in a firm grip.

As quickly as the pain had come, it was gone, leaving Pitch feeling drained. He turned a suspicious gaze to his arm and gasped in shock. Where once was a pale gray arm now had a skull tattoo with a snake slithering through its mouth. Pitch observed the mark cautiously. It wasn't that bad.

"Congratulations, you are now officially a Death Eater!" Voldemort exclaimed in a bored fashion.

"..." Pitch was speechless.

"Now about your powers. We'll be calling a meeting tomorrow and going on a raid, where you will be able to absorb the fear from muggles. Sound good?" Voldemort asked. Pitch nodded and looked down at his hand, which was still gently held in Voldemort's. Pitch blushed, looked away awkwardly, and tugged at his hand.

Voldemort, suddenly just noticing he held Pitch's hand hostage, hastily let go and cleared his throat. "Yes...well you had better go then. I have work to do." He dismissed, his voice a little shaky, but still powerful.

Pitch bowed low. "Yes...um...m-my Lord." he stammered uselessly. He quickly left the dinning hall using his shadows and went to his room before he made even more of a fool out of himself. Red eyes watched him leave with an indistinguishable emotion.

As Pitch lay in bed that night he held his hand close to his face and observed it. He blushed, remembering the feeling of Voldemort's strong and spindly fingers as he had unconsciously rubbed his thumb up and down against Pitch's hand. Pitch sighed happily, sleep claiming him soon after.

**- _To Be continued -_**


	5. Chapter 5

Cantil:** Hello everyone. I just wanted to thank you all for the support of this story, no matter if you wrote a review or not, it still makes me happy to see so many views so stay awesome. So I will able to get the rest of the chapters out quicker because I have the rest of the plot planned out. Vaguely. It's just getting it on paper. But anyways, here you go guys, the next chapter. **

**Summary: What would happen if Lord Voldemort and Pitch Black met? Perhaps love? Will the Guardians ruin everything for Pitch once again?**

**Recap of last chapter: **

_**"Congratulations, you are now officially a Death Eater!" Voldemort exclaimed in a bored fashion.**_

_**"..." Pitch was speechless.**_

_**"Now about your powers. We'll be calling a meeting tomorrow and going on a raid, where you will be able to absorb the fear from muggles. Sound good?" Voldemort asked. Pitch nodded and looked down at his hand, which was still gently held in Voldemort's. Pitch blushed, looked away awkwardly, and tugged at his hand.**_

_**Voldemort, suddenly just noticing he held Pitch's hand hostage, hastily let go and cleared his throat. "Yes...well you had better go then. I have work to do." He dismissed, his voice a little shaky, but still powerful.**_

_**Pitch bowed low. "Yes...um...m-my Lord." he stammered uselessly. He quickly left the dinning hall using his shadows and went to his room before he made even more of a fool out of himself. Red eyes watched him leave with an indistinguishable emotion.**_

_**As Pitch lay in bed that night he held his hand close to his face and observed it. He blushed, remembering the feeling of Voldemort's strong and spindly fingers as he had unconsciously rubbed his thumb up and down against Pitch's hand. Pitch sighed happily, sleep claiming him soon after.**_

**The Moonlight's Ruin**

**Chapter 5**

The sunlight was bright as it shone through the open curtain. Pitch groaned tiredly, and turned over to sleep more, but to no avail. He sighed irritably, turned back and squinted at the open curtain. _Great._ He had been in such a trance last night that he had left the curtain open even though he knew the sunlight bothered him more than anyone else. He was the freaking _Nightmare King, _for god's sake. His name practically screamed darkness.

Pitch sat up with a yawn, and ran a hand through his black, tangled hair. He smiled as he remembered the night before and blushed heavily. He slowly got out of bed, stretching his arms above his head, and trudged to the bathroom to get ready for the day. Trying his best not to think of Voldemort or his strong hands..._All over your body, passionately tangled in your hair as he kisses you...The hands moving down, down further and further until they finally reach-Enough! Control yourself. You feel nothing for him. _Pitch splashed water on his face, and looked in the mirror. His face was flushed, and he was breathing heavily.

_Don't do this to yourself, Pitch. Not again. You can't afford to have feelings for him. He is your master and you are his servant. Nothing more, nothing less. _Pitch tried to convince himself, and refused to acknowledge how much it hurt to think that Voldemort could never feel anything for him. He gazed at his left arm and traced the tattoo gently. Pitch knew he was fooling himself. He knew from the moment that he met Voldemort that he felt something for him, but he had hoped it would go away. No such luck though. _Could Voldemort ever feel something for me though? _He asked himself, fearing the answer. Pitch sighed wistfully and used the shadows to meet Voldemort for breakfast in the dinning room.

When Pitch entered the room, Voldemort was already seated at the head of the table, reading a book quietly. Voldemort looked up gestured for Pitch to seat himself, and went back to reading. Pitch sat down on Voldemort's left awkwardly. The breakfast went by in a tense silence.

Pitch couldn't understand why Voldemort was acting like nothing happened last night. He felt hurt and angry, but didn't dare to comment on the matter.

_Fine then! _Pitch thought angrily, barely restraining himself from storming from the room._ If he wants to pretend that what happened last night was nothing then I will too. Two can play this game!_

Pitch looked up to find Voldemort staring at him blankly, his red eyes shinning brightly in the sunlight. Pitch relaxed his tense muscles and smiled calmly. Voldemort's eyes narrowed in suspicion, but he nodded politely.

"So..When is the meeting?" Pitch asked curiously, trying to distract himself from staring into those red orbs he had grown to love for too long.

Voldemort paused thoughtfully. "Now." He decided, waving his wand that had sat on the table near in front of him, instantly clearing the table of food. Pitch stopped himself from glaring as the food he had been eating vanished. He looked up, only to find Voldemort looking at him in amusement.

Voldemort took Pitch's left arm in his right, and pressed his wand against it gently. Pitch closed his eyes, expecting the same pain he had felt as when he got the mark, but he gasped at the pleasure it brought. A shiver ran up his spine, and his breathing picked up slightly. It felt like Voldemort's hands were everywhere on him, leaving a burning sensation in its wake.

But just as suddenly as it had started, it was over. Voldemort released his arm, and sat back to wait for his followers patiently, unaware of the effect he had on Pitch. Pitch opened his eyes, slowly recovering from the experience. Pitch sighed in relief when the Death Eaters arrived. He couldn't tell any of them apart, due to everyone wearing masks and black robes.

Pitch looked down at himself, then to Voldemort curiously, wondering why he hadn't been made to wear the same thing. "Welcome, my friends. Today I will be taking a small group out on a raid." Voldemort began quietly. The Death Eaters all started to whisper excitedly. They hadn't been on a raid in a while, and all of them wanted a chance to go.

Voldemort stood up and walked around the table stopping behind Pitch's chair. The Death Eaters looked at Pitch in wonder, but didn't say anything about his presence. Most to fearful of punishment if they did. Pitch held his breath as he felt Voldemort's breath on the back of his neck. Close to touching him, but not close enough for Pitch. His eyes grew half lidded as he practically felt Voldemort's voice vibrate as he spoke.

"My elite shall get the honor of accompanying me." Voldemort announced, dashing any hope to half of the room. Many looked down sadly. Voldemort moved to stand in front of his chair in satisfaction. "The rest of you, may leave." He dismissed with a glare, daring anyone to go against him. No one did. Pitch almost laughed at how quickly the room cleared, save for six people. All of them wearing silver masks instead of black. "Let us head out." Pitch stood up with the rest of them, but stuck to Voldemort's side.

"You know where to go." Voldemort called. They all nodded, bowed and vanished in a puff of black smoke excitedly. Voldemort grabbed Pitch's arm tightly and they two, vanished.

When Pitch opened his eyes and looked around, he noticed they were on a wooded hill. The hill overlooked a small village. The village looked dark and dreary, no one was on the streets and it was dead silent. Until the Death Eaters were unleashed on it, that is.

The village erupted in flames and screams were heard, being carried over the wind.

Pitch shivered in excitement, barely registering that Voldemort held him by the waist. He took a deep breath, fear instantly filling him, making him groan in pleasure. He hadn't felt this much fear in a long time, and it felt amazing. Pitch could tell that he was growing stronger, and he loved it. He couldn't thank Voldemort enough. He looked up only to see Voldemort staring down at him in wonder.

Pitch felt the insane urge to kiss him, but quickly controlled himself. Pitch grabbed the hand that was on his waist and gently untangled himself, but held the hand firmly. He looked out at the others, avoiding Voldemort's questioning red gaze. Voldemort gently squeezed his hand, but said nothing. Pitch smiled. Maybe, just maybe Voldemort felt something for him as well.

There would be many more raids like this. Voldemort watching as Pitch grew stronger and stronger, and eventually Pitch was able to control his Nightmares again. Each day his and Voldemort's relationship grew stronger as well. They grew closer and for this Pitch was extremely happy, but he didn't realize what this meant for him and Voldemort.

_**Meanwhile Near A Rural Town Called Burgess **_

A Figure with a blue hooded sweater, white hair, striking blue eyes, pale skin, and a staff that resembled a shepherd's crook, stood watch at an abandoned broken bed in the middle of the forest. The figure watched as Nightmares, one by one started to leave the hole underneath the bed and never come back. He grew suspicious, but didn't say anything to his Guardian friends when it started to happen.

They had begun to take turns watching Pitch's lair for when he decided to try something again, but nothing changed the first few months. Until one day.

He knew that the Nightmares came and went, but they were never gone this long, and this worried him. Was Pitch back? Would he try to destroy the children's belief again? The figure known as Jack Frost gathered up his staff and went to tell his friends of this development.

He didn't know where the Nightmares were going, but with the help of his friends, Jack was sure they could get to the bottom of it.

_**~ To Be Continued ~**_


	6. Chapter 6

**Cantil: Sorry about how late and short this chapter is. Writers block sucks. Not to mention I have a new pet snake to care for, which is awesome, but here you go guys. **

_**Recap Of Last Chapter:**_

_**There would be many more raids like this. Voldemort watching as Pitch grew stronger and stronger, and eventually Pitch was able to control his Nightmares again. Each day his and Voldemort's relationship grew stronger as well. They grew closer and for this Pitch was extremely happy, but he didn't realize what this meant for him and Voldemort. **_

**Meanwhile Near A Rural Town Called Burgess **

_**A Figure with a blue hooded sweater, white hair, striking blue eyes, pale skin, and a staff that resembled a shepherd's crook, stood watch at an abandoned broken bed in the middle of the forest. The figure watched as Nightmares, one by one started to leave the hole underneath the bed and never come back. He grew suspicious, but didn't say anything to his Guardian friends when it started to happen. **_

_**They had begun to take turns watching Pitch's lair just for when he decided to try something again, but nothing changed the first few months. Until one day. **_

_**He knew that the Nightmares came and went, but they were never gone this long, and this worried him. Was Pitch back? Would he try to destroy the children's belief again? The figure known as Jack Frost gathered up his staff and went to tell his friends of this development. **_

_**He didn't know where the Nightmares were going, but with the help of his friends, Jack was sure they could get to the bottom of it. **_

**The Moonlight's Ruin**

**Chapter 6**

The day eventually came where Voldemort took control of the ministry. It had started off with some high-ranking Death Eaters getting jobs and gaining trust with the minister, and ended when minister Pius Thicknesse, under Voldemort's Imperius Curse, imposed the rules he and Pitch had talked about.

Muggleborns now had to take a vow of secrecy along with any family members connected to them, or live out the rest of their lives in the muggle world still under oath. The wizarding world seemed to embrace this new rule once it was explained to them that the muggles would never accept magic.

Pitch was excited at the prospect. Things were going well for them and he couldn't be happier for Voldemort. Pitch had gained control over his Nightmares, and though Voldemort didn't mention it, Pitch knew he was in awe at his power.

In this time span, Pitch and Voldemort had gotten even closer. Pitch finally admitted his love for Voldemort to himself, and he desperately wanted to tell him how he felt, but he didn't quite know if Voldemort felt the same. He wouldn't risk their relationship.

He would soon regret that decision though.

**xxx**

It started out as any normal day for Pitch. He awoke to the sunlight streaming in his window. He went to the dinning hall and ate breakfast with Voldemort, and they sat around outside in the gardens all day, talking quietly with a few Nightmares standing protectively nearby.

Pitch looked to his Nightmares curiously when they tensed, and started to snort loudly. He got up from his spot on the thick grass beside Voldemort who had paused as well, and walked up to the nearest horse.

"What's wrong girl?" He asked, gently stroking her black mane. The horse snorted again, and nuzzled Pitch roughly, pushing him back slightly.

"Pitch look out!" Voldemort yelled, pulling out his wand. Pitch barely dodged an icicle shard, ducking just in time, it zooming over his head and hitting a tree. He looked up in the direction it came from, only to see someone he never wanted to see for as long as he lived.

"Jack Frost." Pitch spat venomously. Jack looked away from Voldemort who stood a few paces from Pitch.

Jack saw the Nightmares circling Pitch and Voldemort protectively, grit his teeth, raised his staff threateningly, and aimed for Voldemort. He didn't know who it was but he could sense the dark power coming from him.

"Pitch! I knew you were behind the Nightmares disappearing from Burgess." Jack glared at Pitch hatefully. "I don't know what you're up to, but I'm gonna put a stop to it." He once again raised his staff higher.

Pitch chuckled darkly. "Oh, really? How will you do that?" He asked in amusement. He looked around them, trying to spot the other guardians in the shadows but he saw no one. "Where are your guardian friends then?"

Jack shook his head sadly, before growing a determined look on his face. Voldemort watched the exchange cautiously, wary of what Jack will do. "They aren't coming. They think you couldn't possibly come back, but it doesn't matter. I'll defeat you without them!" Jack launched another icy blast at Pitch, but Voldemort countered it with a wave of his wand.

Jack frowned thoughtfully. He had to get them away from each other, and fast. His answer came when he saw a glowing gold light come into the garden. It was Sandy. Pitch noticed Sandy right away, and focused his attacks on him, while Voldemort battled Jack. Pitch's Nightmares disappeared, still too weak for battle, having just joined Pitch again.

Pitch readied a bow, aimed for Sandy and shot, missing by just a few inches. He was about to ready another when he heard a scream.

"No!" Voldemort shouted, jumping in front of Pitch and throwing out his arms protectively and Pitch noticed that Voldemort didn't have his wand anymore. Pitch's scream was loud and heartbroken, as he watched Voldemort fall forward in a heap. He fell to his knees beside the man he loved, and gently turned him over on his back.

Pitch gasped as he saw the wound. A big icicle was lodged into Voldemort's heart.

"No. No! Please! You can't do this to me! Please!" He begged, looking up at the moon. Willing it to help him, but the moon was silent. Pitch's face had tears running down it, as he helplessly watched Voldemort take his last breaths. He carefully took out the shard from Voldemort's chest, and threw it as hard as he could.

Pitch barely registered that the guardians had left him and Voldemort alone, fleeing the scene just as easily as they came. He screamed, slamming his fists into the ground, blood covering his hands from trying to stop the bleeding. His Nightmares returned and circled the two, letting out their own ear-piercing cries.

"No! Voldemort don't die. Please! Stay with me." He pleaded with Voldemort, grabbing his face roughly, but it was too late. Voldemort smiled at Pitch in a mysterious light, took his last breath, and was gone.

Pitch didn't know how long he sat there crying, but when he looked up, he noticed that Voldemort's body was gone. All that was left was a pile of ash.

**- To Be Continued -**

**Cantil: Don't hate me. This chapter was very hard for me to write because I suck at battle scenes, but I should have at least got the point across. The next chapter will be the last so get ready for that. I would love some reviews on this chapter. It would make me happy. **


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